


A Clandestine Affair

by byunchan0461



Category: Chanbaek - Fandom, EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-04-08 06:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14098959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byunchan0461/pseuds/byunchan0461
Summary: Park Chanyeol isn’t one to believe in the ironies of life not until he falls in love with his best friend’shusband.





	1. Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Carle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carle/gifts).



> Thank you for all the love, patience, and the suggestions that you’d pitched in for this fic. (^.~) I truly am indebted to you. :D
> 
>  
> 
> I am not an English major nor an experienced writer so please have mercy on me with regards to any errors that you’ll get to encounter in every chapter. As usual, this fic is unbeta-ed so kindly excuse the mistakes that I had unfortunately committed.
> 
> I gotta tell you though that I have a very lazy writing muse which is why I’m apologizing as early as now if the updates won’t come as often. Rest assured that I will try my hardest to finish this story. There's going to be a lot of cursing as well as offensive words in this fic. Please don't take it seriously. Also, from the title itself, please expect that there will be 'infidelity' issues here but I will do my best to justify the action. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading this and please do not hesitate to voice out your thoughts because I’d love to hear from you. ^.~

 

 

 

 

### “Love at first sight is the recognition of your lost other half.”

 

Park Chanyeol is one of the most brilliant curators of his generation. Ever since he was in middle school, arts had always been his friend and had remained his companion during his rough years. He had been a victim of bullying, his huge ears and his used-to-be chubby built had been the target of the harassment. The nonstop humiliation from his classmates made him lonely, had gotten him depressed because deep within his heart, he only wanted two things in his life—  _to be loved and be appreciated._

But instead of pitying himself, he persevered. He began to respect his solitude because he knew that only by being alone, he’d be able to get to know more about himself. That in silence, he would be able to freely speak with his soul, to figure out what he really wanted to do with his life. His isolation became his salvation, saving him from utter devastation.

After months of struggling, he finally got a hang of himself. He realized that he shouldn’t let those experiences define him. He made use of those painful experiences to pinpoint his strengths as well as his weaknesses. And from then on, a new Park Chanyeol rose up—  _someone who would never back down to anything that he wanted, a person who would never accept defeat without a fight._

He began to choose which battle to pick on, challenged those great fighters who were worth his time. He got better in fighting his oppressors as well as ignoring their incessant harassments. He paid no attention to their stupid commentaries for he knew that he was anything but. Chanyeol knew that he was worth  _more_  than what people think of him. 

 

 

It was in one of those fights wherein he was busy punching someone’s face that he came across Takashi Murakami’s,  _Mr. Rainbow DOB—_  an abstract cartoon-ish art, which was displayed in front of a prominent museum in the city. Said art had successfully took all of his attention away from the brawl and he was  _that_  starstruck that it earned him a bruise from a punch which unfortunately landed on his left jaw. The punch managed to get him back on track as he muddled through the fight and later on turned victorious. Chanyeol's opponent almost lost his consciousness from the attacks he had given him. 

The art fueled something in him which opened up his closet of curiosities. His mind began to wonder what the story was underneath the masterpiece. It got him into thinking about the process that Mr. Murakami had gone through just to solidify his inspiration. And that was what started his obsession with arts. It immediately became his place of refuge, his comfort zone, his  _element._

He dedicated most of his time in contemporary arts, researching more about them as well as the artists who specialized in modern craftsmanship. He made sure to acquaint himself  with them, visiting every museum around the globe just to pay his respects. And because of his passion, Park Chanyeol not only became an expert in arts but also became one of the world’s highly acclaimed art collector.

 

▪️▪️▪️

 

"Hey, Chanyeol. Listen, I have a  _plus_  one tonight so I'm expecting some loyalty from you, alright?" A tall man in a gray suit announced, his smile was pretty much comparable to a perverted old man.

"So you  _do_  think about their feelings, huh?"  

Said man only chuckled in return. He didn’t even seem to be insulted by the curator’s sarcasm.

"Oh shut the hell up, Park. I'm just being polite, you know. It's not my fault that I am this...  _loveable._ " The tall man grinned but it was more like a smirk actually. Then he continued, “I'm not the type who offends people especially those who  _favors_  my company.”

“Anyway—“ He ceased just to take a breather. “...my  _date_  tonight said that he'll be running late so the formalities will have to wait. I'll introduce him to you once he gets there but in the meantime, I have a dinner appointment in about..." Pausing, he glanced at his ridiculously expensive watch. "...an hour so yeah, I'll go straight to the event after that."

The man nonchalantly replied with an obvious hint of playfulness in his voice.

_‘And I'd be damned not to get the hint on what he's trying to imply,’_  Chanyeol thought bitterly.

"You really have all the energy in the world to play with a lot of people, don't you? I can't believe that you always get away with it. One day, your luck will run out because eventually, one of them will find out. Maybe this  _date_  of yours will be the one to discover your bed-hopping habit."

Silence wasn’t what the curator's been expecting because his tall friend had always been a genius when it came to formulating a witty comeback. As the curator continued to stare at the other, he finally noticed how lost his friend was with his own thoughts, his infamous smirk was nowhere to be found and his eyes were focusing at something insignificant behind him. With an audible sigh followed by a clearing of a throat, the man pulled himself together by turning on an award-winning smile on his lips.

_"He’ll_  never find out. That, I'm sure. He trusts me with his life and I always make sure that it stays that way." The tower of a man said, an arrogant smile was beginning to materialize onto his face. "I can guarantee you that this date of mine won’t  _ever_  leave me, Chanyeol. And besides, he won’t be able to get rid of me that easily…”

“Why? Did you manage to get  _him_  pregnant that he couldn’t let go of you now?” Sarcasm was dripping onto the curator’s words but that only earned him a sinister grin from the other.

“I wish I  _could,_  Park. I bet we’ll be able to produce beautiful offsprings together, if only men can give birth—“ Smiling like a creep, the tall guy began to daydream about his stupid idea. “Unfortunately, he isn’t one superficial being so no— he’s not pregnant. I just know that he  _won’t_  leave me whatever happens so stop asking too much.” The tall man once again smirked.

“But it wouldn’t hurt to keep your mouth shut about my escapades, right?” He asked, eyes searching the curator's. “You're my best friend and you got my back, yeah?"  

"I don't stick my nose into something I'm not involved with, Yifan. It's  _your_  problem, not mine. As long as no one messes up my career or punches the life out of me or even cries onto my shoulder then I'm definitely a blind man to your filthy acts."

It took about a few seconds before Chanyeol's statement finally sank into his best friend's thick skull. Eventually, the latter replied with an infuriating episodes of boisterous laughter and kept on doing so which nonetheless irked the curator to the core.

And as the other continued with his guffawing, Chanyeol’s mind began to plot out devious plans on how to stop the bastard from cackling. It’s either he’d thwack that flawless face of his with anything that his hands could get or he’d drag the despicable man out of the building regardless of how heavy the rain’s been pouring all over Seoul that afternoon.  _The verdict?_  He settled on doing both. 

_"Of course, of course. I understand,"_ Hesaid, finally halting the curator from what he’s about to do.

"No dramas for Mr. Park Chanyeol, I promise." 

 

 ▪️▪️▪️

 

The heart,  _they say,_  is a wild creature which is why the ribs are built to contain it's once-in-a-blue-moon unruly behaviour and it took the promising art curator an exhibit in California to finally confirm how beastly his' could get. It was at an art show in LA where he first saw the person who  _almost_  uncaged that shitty organ out of his chest...

_Someone whom he never thought would exist in this world._

 

 

Park Chanyeol was never the type to believe in love for he was usually surrounded by players— people who's a  _pro_  at toying with feelings and those who unhealthily engage in one night stands. The art conservator came to realize that there were only two types of people in this world:  _those who enjoys abusing others and those who tolerates the abuse._  And having to have witnessed how sick people could get made the famous curator avoid any forms of attachment, barricading his heart from emotions such as love.

Relationship wasn't something that the young curator took interest in nor was falling in love simply because of how it worked. To Chanyeol, it has the ability to literally drive people crazy due to the responsibilities it's associated with. Imagine those unending demands, those every-fucking-where expectations, oh... and that 'insurmountable-obstacles-that-you-will-have-to-endure-just-to-keep-the-relationship-going’ shit...  _Who the hell wants to do that?_  

_‘Spare me the drama, please,’_  Chanyeol would find himself saying.

Don’t get him wrong. He's not being bitter or anything. It's just that he didn't really  _fancy_  those kinds of cheesiness. He never once imagined himself looking like a fool in front of other people. He had a reputation to keep, a family name he could never dare jeopardize. The head of the family would not hesitate to disown the only heir of the Park empire even if the man himself proved to be successful at his chosen profession. Besides, the curator didn’t really like family interventions so instead of going against his entitled legacy, he decided to live on it, basking himself on its advantages. After all, he's able to do whatever the hell he wanted.

But then the art enthusiast was a big fan of skinship. He's a man after all, a  _healthy_  one at that. He’s had a series of one-night-stands varying from all sorts of women around the world and he would always make sure not to have a repeat of the ‘experience’ from the same person. Park Chanyeol didn’t like being tied under the same person. He’s not someone to adhere with constancy.

The years of flirting taught him the art of self-control, the  _no-strings-attached_  set up. Lucky for him that there were a whole lot of women who were up for that shit. The curator didn’t have a hard time bedding someone he may or may not like at all. It was mainly because he was blessed with a handsome face linked to a prominent surname. He believed that it’s the reason why people were so into him and that they didn’t really love him the way he dreamt of having been loved.

But if some were all too willing to spread their legs for him, some would also choose to play hard to get. And it was a bite at his goddamn ego to have to submit to whatever they wanted him to do. He hated wooing, even hated foreplays because he believed that it was a total waste of time. And these handful of flings were a pain in his butt primarily because they were the ones who burden his shoulders with expectations and pressures. These people kept giving him an ultimatum—  _to choose serious relationships over lusty one-night-stands._

The 'said' ultimatum didn't sit well with Chanyeol because he's  _not_  the type to grant someone an access to peek inside the opulent comforts of his world. He made himself clear on that ever since day one— that he would never ever give anyone the right to just waltz in and be a mainstay into his life because being serious was a no no for him. The curator's never built for deeper commitments.

 

 

But the idea of avoiding love was immediately thrown out of the window the moment the pink-haired boy entered the exhibition room. Just a few seconds ago, Chanyeol was so sure that his eyes were built to  _only_  appreciate women but when the beautiful being came into sight, he felt a big rift into his sexuality. The boy’s existence unexpectedly affected the curator, weakening him beyond words that even his mental capabilities were straight off paralyzed. The person before him was indeed a masterpiece that every artist dreams of bringing into being.

The Gods must've broken their standards when they've created  _him._  His face was just beyond compare— blessed with an unblemished skin, a well-sculpted nose, a very tempting lips, and a pair of tantalizing eyes which Chanyeol believed to be his best asset. It wasn’t deep set as what he had ideally wanted but it’s innocent— absolutely full of life and sparkling in awe, almost impairing the curator's eyesight. His body frame had the right amount of curves resembling like that of a model who's glorious thighs were a  _must_  to ravage. His hair may have been loudly colored but that only made him even more breathtaking.

In addition to that, the boy’s movements were just as graceful and elegant as that of a ballerina, leaving the curator highly anticipating his every move. The pink-haired visitor could absolutely make someone feel weak, just like what a kryptonite does to Superman.

_Beautiful,_  an adjective Park Chanyeol had never thought of using to describe a man. But he was just exactly as that— A man so stunning that his breath hitched when those pair of magnificent eyes landed on him.

**And then he smiled... And all Chanyeol could think of was 'Oh Shit.'**

 

 

The man started walking towards him with that same breathtaking smile plastered across his lips. Chanyeol swore that his smile could definitely spellbind anyone, luring people into whatever he desired.  _And who was he to deny that pull when he was a willing body to submit to anything that the pink-haired man may ask of him?_

He didn’t even know where these feelings were coming from for he had never been this slack-jawed over someone, more so with a  _man._  The pink-haired ignited something inside of him that he couldn’t—  _or he refused_ — to name, believing that it’s impossible to feel so much in such a short time.  _Nope. It’s not love, definitely not love-at-first-sight._

Still, he found himself settling on one thing :  _before the night ends, I'll do whatever it takes to win the man’s attention and preferably score a night to remember. My preference can go fuck itself and burn into the infernal pits of hell._

But then his confidence crumbled down when the bastard of a Wu Yifan came strolling towards the gorgeous boy, welcoming him with an imposing kiss. The other kissed him back without a care in the world, like nothing mattered in that moment except for the lips ravishing his. And it fucked up everything in Chanyeol for it made him so damn envious of the lucky asshole who's now holding the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen.

 

 

"Chanyeol, I'd like you to meet Byun Baekhyun." Yifan said, gesturing towards the man beside him. "Baby, this is Park Chanyeol, the brains behind this event."

"Nice to finally meet you, Chanyeol-ssi." The man offered his right hand to which he gladly accepted. "I've heard a lot about you. You're  _always_  a topic of our discussion."

"Is that so?" Chanyeol asked, thrilled to have heard how the man uttered his name. "I didn't know that this guy has a…  _brother complex?_ " He added with a cocky smile, earning a chuckle from Baekhyun and a ‘fuck you’ from Yifan.

"Should I be jealous then? Should I keep an eye on you?"

_‘Not me, silly.’_  The man's just so wrong about doubting him.

"No need, babe." Yifan reassured. "Chanyeol  _doesn't_  really swing that way."

_‘And how the hell does he know of that? How come he doesn't realize that Byun Baekhyun has the potential to snatch and break a lot of hearts— whatever their gender is? He even has my heart on his palm already!’_

"Oh." Baekhyun mumbled. "Now I'm relieved. I don't think I can ever compete with someone like Chanyeol-ssi..."

The curator's eyes tripled in size because seriously...  _Has this guy ever looked at himself in the mirror?_

"Anyway..." He made a quick follow up, a touch of pink staining his cheeks. "Thank you for inviting me, Chanyeol-ssi. I'm not really into arts but I'm definitely honored to be here."

"The pleasure's all mine..." Chanyeol replied in an instant, making his best friend raise a brow at his immediate reaction.  

"You must be famished. Come along, babe. Let me feed you..."

 

 

"So how did you meet this idiot?"

As Yifan's best friend, Chanyeol found it weird not to know of the man's hook up skills. While they talked about a lot of things, they never really talked about personal ones most especially relationship matters. The bastard obviously had no idea of what the word 'commitment' was because he had never gone steady with one person nor had ever been serious to any of his relationships so...  _What's the use of talking about relationships anyway?_

From what Chanyeol have gathered, his best friend's really  _exceptional_  when it came to wooing his desired person. He always ended up going home with somebody... like  _literally,_  some body. It's Wu Yifan's gift, a talent he's very much making wise use of and was proudly living up to. The man was every description of a bastard, the type of guy your parents warned you about.

"Aren't you a curious one?" Yifan countered, managing to attain an adorable giggle from Baekhyun. "Don't worry. We didn't meet online, if that's what you're trying to find out."

This time, Baekhyun bursted out laughing and Chanyeol swore his heart inflated a little just by hearing the sound of it.

 "Well, your fingers are always tapping on your phone." The curator casually replied as Yifan's glaring eyes immediately zeroed in on his'. "Or... Or m-maybe it's p-porn that m-makes you busy..."

An important thing to know about Park Chanyeol is to never trust him with secrets, all the more if it's a lie because he's not really good in keeping them. The curator seriously sucks at that. 

"You know what? You really should get yourself a girlfriend. You are losing your own touch of romance." Yifan was quick to change the awkward topic.

Chanyeol was ready to retort back when his assistant came out of nowhere to tell him that someone wanted to meet the artist who he had featured in his collection.

_Oh right._  The art event was to commemorate an artist famous for his extraordinary contemporary works. Tonight's all about  **Wu Yifan,**  the man who also happened to be a constant person in Park Chanyeol's life.

 

 

Park and Wu met at Royal College of Art, London, and had been inseparable ever since then. They were the only Koreans of their batch, making them ‘click’ in an instant. No one understood Chanyeol better than Yifan so it wasn’t surprising anymore that the latter earned the ‘best friend’ title.

Despite of being best friends, Chanyeol and Yifan were two opposing units. While Yifan was feisty, Chanyeol's calm. Wu's amiable, Park was aloof. The artist was flirty, the curator's reserved. There wasn't anything in their personality they have in common even their views in life were way too different from each other. But they both believed that they're each other's alter ego. Whatever the other lacked, the other provided.

But if there's one thing the two men enthusiastically share with each other, it would be their love for art. Other than that, forget about it.

 

 

The secretary said that a  _certain_  Mr. Huang wanted to personally congratulate the man of the hour for his astounding craftsmanship. But actually, there's more to it that meets the eye.

_Want to know a secret?_  The man Yifan had dinner plans with also had the same name as this Mr. Huang.

**Huang Zitao,**  a billionaire playboy, was one of Yifan's  _lovers._

 

 

When Chanyeol told the infamous artist about it, the man beamed eagerly—  _way too eager_  actually that his enthusiastic face steamed up the curator's insides. It was simply because the boy beside Yifan was disturbingly blinded by what was really going on. The pink-haired was so whipped that he didn’t understand what that playful smirk on Yifan’s lips was all about.

Suddenly, all things began to make sense to the curator. The pink-haired's clueless reaction was a confirmation that Wu Yifan was right— Byun Baekhyun was undeniably  _smitten_  over his promiscuous best friend.

Yifan schooled his expression into his 'professional' face as he sent Chanyeol a nod. He turned his attention towards the boy who was now segregating his veggies in the same way kids do whenever they're bored with their food. He held his hands to somehow get his attention and then proceeded with his shitty reasons-- saying something like,  _‘Mr. Huang is a very well-known man in the arts industry and it will be a privilege to meet him.’_  Chanyeol couldn’t help but to feel pity over the oblivious boy.

_Fuck Yifan and his lame ass excuse._

Baekhyun, on the other hand, listened attentively with a smile that elegantly wormed out from his lips. Chanyeol had never wanted to punch his pretentious best friend so bad because  _how the hell could Yifan lie straight into this beautiful man's face without even flinching?_  How could he not be contented with a man as divine as him? Because to Chanyeol, Byun Baekhyun was so much better than Huang Zitao. He could clearly see the young man's heart in his eyes and feel his love through his smiles. Baekhyun would in no doubt follow Yifan anywhere even up to the pits of hell.

 Yet here Yifan was... going behind his back. 

_Where the fuck is this bastard's heart?_

The artist continued to caress Baekhyun's cheeks, telling him of a promise of ‘making-up’ later. And when the clueless strawberry-haired finally let him go, Yifan squeezed his shoulders and gave him a kiss on his temple. He slowly stood up and excused himself from their table.

 

 

When the man was out of sight, Chanyeol found himself being observed by Baekhyun. His stare caused an instability in his heartbeat making him gulp as a reflex. The curator cleared his throat and relaxed his composure just to expel the effects that his body was experiencing upon being thoroughly scrutinized by his love interest. 

"Do I have something on my face, Baekhyun-ssi?"

The man blinked rapidly but nonetheless continued ogling at the other’s face.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He chuckled nervously while rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It's just that... I was kind of wondering why you're still here? P-please don't g-get me wrong..." Baekhyun fanned himself with his beautiful,  _as Chanyeol regarded,_ fingers to calm his racing mind. 

"What I meant was..." He exasperated, eyes boring into the curator's. "Being this event's overseer, aren't you supposed to be with Yifan? Aren't you supposed to be the one to introduce him to this Mr. Huang?"

_They actually know each other to a point where they’re very much familiar with the kinks of one another._

Chanyeol wished that he could say that but  _no_ — he had to stop allowing this man to affect him this much because no matter how infatuated he was with the man, the curator still didn't like intervening with people's affairs. This was Yifan's goddamn problem, not  _his._

"It's not necessary anymore, Baekhyun-ssi. I've already introduced them before when I've hosted an art exhibit in Paris."

Call it a lame excuse but whatever. Chanyeol knew that Yifan was playing with fire and he refused to partake in that sick of a game.

"Oh okay. Sorry about that. He didn't tell me anything about Mr. Huang that's why I assumed wrong." Chanyeol saw a hint of hurt in the other's eyes. "Yifan kind of told me before that he gets anxious whenever he's around new people so it'll really be a big help if... you know, you're there beside him? I'm sure he'll feel a lot more comfortable with the whole situation if yo— I'm so sorry, Chanyeol-ssi. I know you're a busy man. It's just that I'm worried about him..." He smiled restrictedly but it was still as beautiful as ever.

_What's that about Yifan getting anxious? He sure is a fucking douche, that idiot!_

"Don't worry about him, Baekhyun-ssi. He's been in the industry for quite a while already so he definitely knows how to handle people..."

"But he said..."

"He'll be okay..." The curator interrupted. "Give him some credit, Baekhyun-ssi. He's a professional artist. He can take care of himself, you don't need to worry."

The man's worried expression was immediately replaced with relief, once again beaming like he's seriously determined to end the curator's life. Byun Baekhyun should really stop smiling like that or he’d definitely be the death of Park Chanyeol.

"Thank you, Chanyeol-ssi." Baekhyun beamed wider, causing a merciless throb inside his ribcage. "Anyway, are you not going to mingle with your guests? Please don't misunderstand. I just don't want to keep you here when I know that you've got work to do."

The young man bit his lip, tucked his loose pink fringe behind his ear, and gave Chanyeol a rueful look. Actually, the curator had to greet a lot of people but he just couldn't leave the beautiful man alone. Not that he would get lost inside the venue or that Chanyeol wanted to babysit him for his dick of a boyfriend. It's just that he couldn't afford to scoot away from his side. The curator was afraid that people might see Baekhyun the way he saw him, the man who can  _steal_  the living breath out of anyone within his perimeter. And he didn't like that thought for he was determined this time to fight for the man's heart even if there was a need to double-cross his best friend. Park Chanyeol’s confident enough that he’d stand a chance against Wu Yifan.

Regardless of Chanyeol's instability towards having a relationship, he still believed that he's far  _more_  better than Yifan could ever be. He may have been involved with a bunch of people but he's technically  _not_  a cheater for he had never officially committed himself to someone. The set up he usually practice was more on the physical satisfaction-based one, a connection only built from lust. 

But Park Chanyeol could tell that Baekhyun was  _different._  Being the first person he unexpectedly desired to start a real relationship with, the curator knew that he was more than fucked already the moment his eyes landed on the man. And Park Chanyeol didn't do relationships simply because he considered them a glitch to his rules of engagement. 

Love at first sight sure was a fucking clichè but it was the perfect description for Baekhyun's sudden appearance in Chanyeol's life. He now understood why he thirsts for the man's attention so much because he wanted Byun Baekhyun to be his and his only. Park Chanyeol would do anything to take the pink-haired man away from someone who only saw him as a  _trophy_  boyfriend.

 

 

For the second time around, Chanyeol's assistant called out for him and told him that this time, he was really needed. A prominent woman demanded a personal tour from the curator himself,  _or maybe this woman just wanted to flirt with him?_   _Who knows?_ He didn't want to leave but before he could think of ways on how to stall the need for his presence, Baekhyun flailed his hands as a protest and said…

"You should go, Chanyeol-ssi. You're not the curator of this event for nothing, right?" He graced him with a smile that continued to fuck up his sanity. "I'll go look for Yifan. So please... Go ahead."

That was the last time he saw Byun Baekhyun that night. He did search for him throughout the crowd but he was unsuccessful so he began to look for the other's boyfriend, whom, he couldn't find as well. In the end, Chanyeol gave up with a conclusion that the both of them went home and was probably getting it on already since the pink-haired was promised a 'making up' tonight. The realization only brewed up anger inside the curator’s heart.

_How fucking great was it that Yifan found him first and not him? How in God's name did Baekhyun end up with someone who exercised polygamy? And why? Why couldn't Baekhyun see that the bastard wasn’t serious about him?_

Because Wu Yifan is someone who just plays and fucks around. He’s nothing but a curator himself— someone who  _collects_  human masterpieces for him to brag about.

_And Byun Baekhyun didn’t deserve to be a part of Yifan’s messed up human gallery._

 

 ▪️▪️▪️

 

The next time Park Chanyeol saw him was during his monthly visit to his grandmother's mansion.

"Chanyeol dear! How have you been?" The old lady chirped with a gentle smile on her face. "You're just in time! There’s someone I want you to meet..."

A young man, not taller than he was, came out from his grandmom's music room. He was wearing a light blue scrub suit which perfectly complemented every curves of his body; a pair of clean, white chucks were sheltering his feet.

Moving on to his face, the man had soft features like that of a woman's and boy— his hair looked so soft and was colored...

_What the actual fuck?_

"I assume you’ve already met Byun Baekhyun? He’s my pretty nurse, by the way.” Grandma Park said as she pinched the nurse’s naturally rosy cheeks. 

Chanyeol was so shocked that his eyes almost grew as big as an owl’s. How his grandmother knew that he had already met Baekhyun, was what caught him tongue-tied.

“Uh… hi?" Baekhyun gave a shy wave as the blushing continued to terrorize his beautiful face.

“Isn’t he pretty, Chanyeollie? Pretty enough to rival a woman’s beauty?” The Park matriarch said with a teasing glint in her eyes.

Believe it or not, Grandma Park was the only one in the family who wasn't creeped out by the LGBT community. In fact, she admired these people for having the courage to be out and proud of what truly made them happy. Chanyeol believed that it was probably due to the fact that most of the Park family had been residing in the US,  _his grandma included,_  for almost 25 years now that made the old woman’s idealisms more open and accepting.

"Indeed, _he is beautiful._ ” The curator replied without hesitations, resulting into a blushing mess of a Byun Baekhyun.

“Too bad he’s  _married._  I wish you’ll marry someone as internally and externally beautiful as Baekhyun too, Chanyeollie. Look at how stunning he is… Wu Yifan sure is a  _lucky_  guy.” The old woman pouted and Chanyeol would have laughed his ass off at the hideous sight if only his ears didn’t get caught onto her last sentence. 

“You’re  _married_  to Yifan?” The curator asked, his voice a little too loud which actually startled the pink-haired boy. The latter only looked down at his feet and nodded slowly.

“Why do you seem so surprised, Chanyeol? Didn’t you know him? Didn’t Yifan introduce him to you already?” Grandma Park arched her well-groomed brows and gave him a curious stare.

_**“You’re married to Wu Yifan?”**  _He repeated and this time, his voice was considerably loud that it almost impaired even his own ears. Baekhyun once again nodded, his lips were tightly sealed.

“Why do you keep yelling, Chanyeollie? You’re scaring poor Baekhyun here—“ The old lady tried to soothe her pretty nurse, who returned her warm gesture with a genuine smile.

“Wait a minute—“ The old woman looked back and forth her grandson and her nurse. “You mean to say that Yifan didn’t tell you that he’s married? That you weren’t there to witness the event as his best man? I thought you boys are best friends? Aren’t you supposed not to hide anything from each other?”

It was a slap in the face when he heard his grandma voiced out the questions that were plaguing his mind. Chanyeol felt betrayed for he never thought that Yifan would not invite him to one of the most important events of his life. The curator may have not actually grown up with Yifan but he firmly believed that their friendship was deeper than any of the connections the both of them had ever been involved with. They’ve been together through good and shit times and that’s something the both of them count dearly.

_Events like Marriage was meant to be disclosed and not to be kept hidden._

_And Park Chanyeol would only believe this hell of a nightmare if he’d hear it coming from Wu Yifan’s mouth…_

 

 

 


	2. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol's been sick with the _Baekhyun _lovebug.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my country, it’s already August 31 so...
> 
>  
> 
> _To someone who I considered to be one of my bestest friends in the whole universe— THANK YOU for bearing with me all these years. ^.^ I love you and I’ll always be here for you. **Happiest birthday, Ibby! ^.~** I wish you all the best in life!_
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning:** There will be a lot of uhm— _offensive _words here so please excuse my words. Lol. ****__

 

 

 

 

### “I'm not supposed to think of you or wonder where you've been but no matter how hard I fight it, thoughts of you always sneak in without me knowing.”

 

It was 4 in the morning and Park Chanyeol was still up and about. His mind was racing a million times because he still couldn’t believe that his best friend,  _Wu Yifan,_ was married to the boy of his dreams.  _How the hell did that happen?_ The curator seriously wanted to find out.

And as his neurons continued to fire up, Chanyeol only grew more restless— tossing and turning on his sheets while pondering over which emotion he had to nurse first :  _the feeling of betrayal or the unexpected breaking of his heart._

 

Park Chanyeol had always protected his ego as well as his heart not because he had gotten them broken nor had been abused at one point in time but because his surname that screamed money and power. And coming from a wealthy family, Chanyeol had always been cautious with each and every action that he took. Rather than giving in to anything that piqued his interest, he focused on meeting his goals— suppressing the strong desire to  _easily_  obtain anything that he wanted. In that way, he’d be able to keep the legacy of the Park family which would nevertheless make him look good in front of the media’s scrutinizing eyes. Aside from that, he also hated family intervention the most so he’d rather keep up with his flawless image than ruin it for something he’d never want to deal with in the first place.

Apart from himself, Park Chanyeol had always protected those whom he cared about and unfortunately for him, Wu Yifan was one of them. As much as he dreaded to look after the tall artist’s egoistic ass, he knew that he’s the perfect candidate for the role— considering the influence that his surname has and the money which never fails to buy his way out from those filthy scandals.

Contradictorily, the curator wasn’t the showy type despite of his love for human touch. He had never dared to expose his feelings nor showed his appreciation for someone’s existence in his life. He figured that doing so would only make him appear as a weakling and he didn’t want to be seen as one simply because he’s afraid of being taken advantage of. He would only allow himself to crack his facade whenever he’s with the people he’s truly closed with, those who knew him by heart. But as soon as he parted with them, his intimidating aura would automatically switch on just so the others, who didn’t belong to his circle, would take him seriously.

 

Being young and powerful has it perks and one of them is to be always given importance. But the curator never really liked the attention so he couldn’t tell if he really enjoyed the special treatment he was given or not. Being favored also means that people will keep pestering him or recklessly throw themselves at him— which he really finds disgusting. Park Chanyeol is a picky man. After all, he’s not a curator for nothing.

In addition to that, Chanyeol also excels in manipulating his emotions. He has the ability to conceal his feelings regardless of how weak or strong it may be. But then Wu Yifan is a game changer. He always finds a way to completely flip the curator’s mental stability.

 

Wu Yifan was indeed one of the people who could throw Park Chanyeol off balance. The tall artist really was a pain in the fucking ass, flirting and playing with both men and women alike which Chanyeol believed were his special talents. The man was a sex enthusiast, would even bang a lamp post if it happened to be wrapped in a short skirt or tight pants. And Chanyeol had never met anyone like Yifan who’s just so into  _physical_  intimacy. The curator even called his friend out of his thirst for carnal desires, suggesting that he had to get some medical help due to that unhealthy obsession of his. But when he told the bastard about his medical assumptions, the man only shrugged his shoulder and told him to fuck off.

Yifan is  _supposed_  to be the more mature one between the two of them. Yet despite of his 2 years age difference with Park, the latter was still the one who protected him from anything that could possibly hurt him. Chanyeol’s the one who uses his connections whenever the asshole gets a little too  _kinky_  with his one night stands. He’s even the one who sues those opportunist who’s trying to squeeze out every won on the artist’s bank account. How they came to this set up, the curator didn’t know.

Moreover, Yifan’s a nutcase to handle— the obnoxious, son of a bitch who only thinks about himself and his animalistic desires. And that was actually what differed Chanyeol from Yifan— the artist has the ability to mercilessly crush someone’s heart and pride while the curator will have the courtesy to gently  _(if that’s even possible)_ break a person’s heart.

 

Moving on with the marriage issue—  _which was actually Chanyeol’s main concern at the moment,_  it seriously weirded him out because he knew that Yifan wasn’t one to fancy marriage— except maybe if there’s a knife on his throat. Chanyeol had actually foreseen his best friend growing old and alone, without someone to call his.

_So what the fuck happened here? Baekhyun wouldn’t threaten him to patiently wait at the end of the aisle, would he? The boy wouldn’t bully Yifan (who's almost twice his size) into something that he didn’t want to do, right?_

Because if there’s someone who was forced to say ‘ _I do_ ’— it would be Baekhyun and not Yifan. Chanyeol believed that the relentless bastard had it in him to coerce the pretty pink-haired into settling down with him no matter how much the boy begged him not to.

The tower of a bastard wasn’t one to believe in love but maybe this time, Byun Baekhyun had really captured his licentious heart. The boy’s charming enough not to flutter even the most resilient human soul. He, himself, couldn’t even deny that he was absolutely smitten with the exquisite boy. Park Chanyeol’s impenetrable nature just fell apart the moment he met Byun Baekhyun.

And as the thought sank in, Chanyeol couldn’t help but to frown at the realization. Yifan, being lovey dovey with the object of his desire, was something he’s hoping not to witness anytime in the future or else he’d really cry his eyes out.  _Looking pathetic be damned._

 

Chanyeol remembered Yifan’s fondness for the boy at the art event in LA. It really was a surprise to everybody when Yifan paraded Baekhyun to his art commemoration event because everybody knew how much of a whore Wu Yifan was. And him, publicly displaying his affections for his pink-haired date, was something the whole world had never seen before. It got the curator into thinking that maybe it was actually Yifan who was smitten to the core and not Baekhyun. The way he looked at the pretty pink-haired was like he’s the most beautiful star in the entire galaxy that Yifan had the pleasure of seeing.

_Maybe Chanyeol misjudged everything. Maybe Yifan’s capable of opening himself to others. Maybe Yifan’s really serious with Baekhyun. Maybe he—_

**Hell No.**

That was one fucked up idea, a tangled shit which Chanyeol would never believe nor even dare to acknowledge. He knew that Wu Yifan would never get serious with anyone, no matter how beautiful and loving a person may be. He would never commit himself to absolute loyalty— to fully give his heart to someone worth it.

And to prove his theory, Chanyeol recalled that specific incident where Yifan excused himself just to make out with that billionaire playboy,  _Huang Zitao._ As gross as it sounds, he had already visualized what took place the moment they were within each other’s perimeter. Zitao was obviously head over heels for the blonde artist and if Wu Yifan could only be bought, Zitao would’ve been the first one to purchase him regardless of the amount.

That made him think deeper, causing him not to sleep a wink that night. A small part of his brain disagreed with the marriage. Chanyeol couldn’t help but to feel something was off with the setup because why would Yifan still fuck around with Zitao? He even fucked the man before meeting his husband at the art convention.  _What the hell is he even playing at?_

 

It took him about a month to finally pay a visit to Yifan’s penthouse. His work had entrapped him for the past few weeks, several meetings took place as a handful of the art pieces he had showcased had been continuously getting purchased. It made his daily schedule unforgiving that whenever he went home, all he wanted to do was to crawl back to his bed and sleep for a week.

So when he was finally freed from his jampacked appointments, he drove his way to his best friend’s house. He didn’t even care if there’s a chance where he’d get to witness the tall blonde in  _action_  because as of last night, he already made up his mind that he would interrogate the bastard. He needed to have him confirm the marriage issue just to shut his brains out because it’s seriously messing up with his sanity. The curator was dying to hear the reason behind his being left out of the wedding. ‘ _Why the hell wasn’t he invited at his own best friend’s wedding?’_ was what angered him the most.

Furthermore, he’d also like to give his best friend a piece of his mind for rudely introducing Baekhyun as his boyfriend instead of his husband.

_Baekhyun._

The curator’s heart began to pound so hard just from mumbling the boy’s name. A certain feeling rose up inside his chest which activated the butterflies in his stomach, flitting aimlessly all over his tummy. He couldn’t help but to feel giddy because of the possibility that he’d be seeing the pretty boy today.

And Park Chanyeol had never been interested over someone before. It was Byun Baekhyun’s face that kept him up every single night, encaptivating his whole senses to the core. He couldn’t understand how come he’s  _that_  attracted towards the boy considering the fact that the curator’s always surrounded by beautiful people left and right. Park Chanyeol unhesitatingly joined the bandwagon, allowing himself to get pulled into the boy’s extreme magnetism, hopelessly infatuated in ways that he could never comprehend. He wanted to see that breathtaking smile again. He was sure that it would be enough to empower the rest of his day.

But to his disappointment, it was Yifan’s housekeeper— Mrs. Yang, who opened the door for him and there was no sign of the pretty angel anywhere.

 

 _“Wu Yifan!”_ He began calling out. “Where are you, mother fucker? How dare you get married without even telling me?”

Chanyeol’s voice boomed across the spacious living room until the man of the hour finally made his appearance, a lazy smile gracing his lips.

“Good morning!” The artist greeted in a sleepy manner. His torso was exposed and his pajamas were dangerously hanging low. The curator gagged at the revolting sight.

“Shut up, Park.” The blonde rolled his eyes. “It’s too early for your sarcasm as well as your unnecessary screaming at this time of the day, you trespasser. You might wake  _someone_ up other than me, you know.”

Chanyeol glared at the yawning artist and kept his mouth shut even though all he ever wanted to do was to nag him for all his worth. The curator breathed out loudly as a scowl began to materialize on his face.

“I’m seriously pissed off right now that I don’t give a fuck anymore, Yifan. My fist is itching to uppercut your despicable face and you have 5 minutes to explain why the hell was I not informed about your balls being tied down or I swear to God, I’ll keep punching your face until your  _husband_  will have a hard time recognizing you...” He gritted his teeth while shooting daggers at the nonchalant blonde.

“So you’ve finally heard—”

The bastard smirked as the other boy continued to scowl at him.

“Yes, _you asshole._ Grandma was the one who broke the news actually so imagine how stupid I looked in front of her for not knowing that my idiot best friend’s married to her private nurse.” The curator scoffed at his still smirking best friend.

“Sorry but not entirely sorry.” Yifan grinned mischievously. “It’s was a spur of the moment, Park. We were in Vegas when it all happened and since we were there already, we thought,  _‘why the hell not?’_  So yeah. We got married that same day.”

The blonde artist chuckled as he walked towards the luxurious kitchen, pulling two black mugs from the topmost cabinet. He poured an ample amount of coffee into each of the mugs and slowly crossed the living room to sit on the leather duvet. He then placed the other cup on top of the elegant center table and gestured for his still annoyed best friend to take the hot concoction.

“You were in Paris, Chanyeol— fucking some blonde girl you’ve met at your event so don’t put the blame on me. You were having the time of your life when I was,  _as you said_ , tying down my balls to the most beautiful boy that ever walked on this planet.”

Yifan once again smiled, immediately grabbing the newspaper that was loitering around the glass table to avoid the lethal stares that his best friend was throwing at him. Chanyeol strolled towards the sofa and sat beside the blonde to finally begin his interrogation.

“Why have I not heard about Byun Baekhyun before? How long have you really known each other? How long have you been married anyway?” The artist chuckled at his best friend’s nonstop questions. “And why the hell did you introduce him as your boyfriend and not your husband?”

Chanyeol’s queries were immediately drowned by a boisterous laughter coming from the tall blonde and he could only glare at the annoying response.

“Uh… yeah.” The blonde rubbed his nape which Chanyeol thought was very unbecoming of him. Knowing Yifan, the artist wasn’t one to allow himself to appear awkward.

“We’ve been married for 6 months already, Chanyeol.”

“Wha—”

“Hear me out first before you kill me with your nonstop nagging.” Yifan interrupted and Chanyeol gave him a nod to proceed with his explanation.

“The reason why I didn’t dare flaunt my marriage was because I was trying to protect Baekhyun from those obsessed flings I’ve unfortunately had. I’m very much aware that there are people who wanted to seek out their revenge on me for either  _playing_  with them or getting involved with their special someone and I couldn’t risk people finding out about our marriage simply because Baekhyun’s too naive for his own good.” Yifan exhaled loudly. “I was afraid that people might take advantage of him and use him against me. Not that I’m scared of those kinds of threat because I’m used to getting them already. It’s just that— I don’t want to see him get hurt just because I have a stupid inclination with one night stands.”

“Then maybe you should stop messing around?  **No.** You  _should_  stop messing around. You’ve already sworn your loyalty to Baekhyun, for fuck’s sake! You have to stop getting into other’s pants… or skirt, or whatever. That is very inhumane of you, Yifan. Baekhyun doesn’t deserve you.”

There it was… the  _he doesn’t deserve you_ sentence that Chanyeol had been meaning to say. Because if there’s anything that Byun Baekhyun deserved, Wu Yifan would be at the end of the list.

“So who deserves him, Park? Someone like _you?_ Aren’t you the same as me? Enjoying the attention and the  _services_  that people throw at us?” Yifan’s statement was provocative and it once again boiled up the curator’s insides.

“ _Correction._ You and I aren’t the same, Yifan. I don’t fuck people as a hobby and I fucking hate the attention that we receive from those meat-thirsty people. It’s disgusting.”

That made the artist’s brow arch in amusement.

“ _Disgusting?_ You find fucking beautiful people disgusting, Chanyeol? I didn’t hear you saying that when you were doing that Park girl in that suite room in Seoul 2 months ago. Did you forget how much money you had to pay those low class businessmen who were checked in in that same floor with you? Your pleasure was heard all over the goddamn floor, Park, so stop bullshit-ing me with your  _it’s disgusting_  lies. It’s time you admit it, Park. You are just as fond of sex as me.”

“Fuck you,” was what he could only come up with as a response to Yifan’s speech. It was somewhat true— he did enjoy that one night he had with the pretty model, Sandara Park. It took him a lot of money and wooing just to seduce the model into sleeping with him—  _for two nights._ And it was one of the best sex he had ever had in his life.

“See?” Yifan smirked. “I may have bedded different people every night but at least I own up to it— unlike you, who pretends to be a saint when what you really are is the exact opposite.”

“Shut the fuck up, Wu. That was a one time thing. You know that she has a boyfriend— whom she said she’s very much in love with.”

“How cruel.” The artist mockingly scrunched up his nose in repugnance. “If that’s how she sees love, then she’s not worth it. She’s just the same as them.”

 _I know,_  Chanyeol badly wanted to say.

“Going back to our previous argument…” The curator was quick to change the topic. “... let me just say that I don’t actually agree with your ways but your reasons seem logical to me.” The curator furthered, taking a sip of his hot coffee. “But still… that doesn’t count as a valid excuse, you dipshit. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about it? I should’ve been informed about your wedding! I’m your best friend, _goddamnit!_ ”

“Like I said, it was unexpected, Chanyeol. We didn’t really plan that one out. It was all on impulse. And besides, it’s going to happen one way or another. We’ve already talked about it even before we decided to finally do it…”

“Six months, Yifan! Six fucking months and you never thought of telling me you were married? Like how the fuck did you even manage to keep it a secret from me? I can’t believe I even encouraged you to fuck Junmyeon-hyung when we were attending that art convention in Busan last month. Oh and let’s not forget that tall bitch-faced brat— what the hell was his name?”

“Sehun. _Oh Sehun._ ” The blonde answered, a smirk was once again appearing on his lips. “The boy with a sexy smir—“

“... the sarcastic asshole who’d slap anyone in the face with his parents’ money.” Chanyeol finished, fists balled into his side to pacify his rage.

“ _I can’t believe you, Yifan!_ We’ve been friends for a long time already for you not to include me with something as important as this! Who even was your best man?”

Yifan snorted at his best friend’s tantrums, misinterpreting the other’s reaction as a childish act. He thought that the curator was throwing a fit simply because he wasn’t his best man.  _I can’t believe Chanyeol can be this immature._

“If it makes you feel any better, my family doesn’t know of my marriage as well…”

“Wait.  _What?_  Why didn—“

“It was what we had agreed upon, Chanyeol.” Yifan continued, disregarding the stunned reaction of his best friend. “I was just trying to abide by Baekhyun’s rules…”

_What? Baekhyun didn’t want people to know of his marriage? He wanted to keep it a secret?_

“During the first few months of our marriage, Baekhyun had gotten all forms of harassment from people who were desperate to get into my pants.” Yifan said, his thick brows furrowed at the memory. “I didn’t know how they knew of my marriage because none of us told anyone about it. We made sure to keep it between us and to attest to that— not even you, my best friend, wasn’t informed  about it.”

“It was all too fucked up at first, Chanyeol…” The artist stressed out. “I was so tempted to ask for your help because I didn’t know how to lessen the stress that Baekhyun’s been experiencing. I told him that we could trust you but he immediately dismissed my suggestion even though the insults were already getting below the belt.” Yifan slowly averted his eyes and sipped on his coffee mug.

“I guess, he’s just too used to being independent. He’s been on his own for a long time already with no one to count on in times of need. It made him the kind of person who wouldn’t seek out for help no matter how much he’s in need of it. Baekhyun doesn’t want to bother people with his own problems that even I, his husband, should’ve been actually partaking. He doesn’t like relying on people and no matter what I say or do, he will never come to me nor change his mind despite of all the abuse he will have to go through…”

There were two things which caught the curator off guard upon hearing his best friend’s revelation. First was that there was one human being who wanted his famous best friend to be kept as a secret.  _Like wow. How come?_ Because seriously. People were actually dying to be with Wu Yifan even if they knew that they’re only being played at. They would brag about him being their boyfriend— even more as his husband. So why did Baekhyun ask Yifan not to tell the world about their marriage? Was Yifan not good-looking enough that Baekhyun was embarrassed about being involved with him?

Second was that Baekhyun also  _babied_  Yifan just like what he had been doing for the past years. He wouldn’t even give the promiscuous bastard the responsibility of taking care of him even if that’s what he totally deserved. Baekhyun freed Yifan from the stresses as well as the pressures that went along with being wedded to him. And it made Chanyeol envious of how lucky his best friend was for having the pretty pink-haired angel all to himself.

“You really are an idiot, Wu! Aren’t you a bit insulted that he didn’t want people to know that he’s acquainted with you? He didn’t even change his surname to Wu— that must’ve hurt even a bit…” The curator mocked, aiming to rub some salt into the other’s wound. He figured it would make himself feel a little better towards the betrayal. But instead, he only felt bitter.

“I  _was,_  Park. I was definitely offended at his stipulation so fuck you for slapping it unto my face. And who the fuck cares if he’s not using my surname? I have papers to prove that he’s mine so I don’t really give a shit about some petty surname issue.” Yifan glared at the ebony-haired art enthusiast. “Besides, I really couldn’t do anything about it since it was part of our agreement…”

“What agreement?” Chanyeol immediately asked, making the blonde artist stiffen at the unexpected question. But then, Yifan straightaway reclaimed his coquettish composure as he replied with, “Something that  _only_  the two of us are supposed to know so butt off, Park.”

The curator sent him a dirty look, feeling a sudden itch to punch the artist for being so inconsiderate of his feelings. He was already feeling betrayed for not being told of his marriage but the asshole kept on drilling a hole into his ego, mocking his emotions like they didn’t matter— like they didn’t share a deeper connection.

“I still don’t find your reasons convincing, Yifan. You should’ve told me of your marriage regardless of Baekhyun, being against it. It’s not like I wouldn’t approve of it, you know. Because if there’s anyone who’s actually on the losing end in this marriage, it’s Byun Baekhyun and not you. So why would I impede the wedding if it’s in  _your_  favor?”

Chanyeol knew that what he just said were cruel but it was what he believed to be true. Baekhyun’s heart was already in deep shit because the curator knew that Yifan would never stick to his vows even if the Gods themselves cursed his dick  to shrink and be of no use to him anymore.

“But whatever. It’s already said and done. You already dragged that boy into your messed up world and I could only pity Baekhyun for being married to you. What did he ever do in his past life to have you?”

The blonde kept quiet at his friend’s remark and it was kind of disturbing to see a silent Wu Yifan. As far as Chanyeol’s concerned, it was never in his personality not to have a witty come back whenever they argue.  _That,_ again, was something new to Chanyeol but just as he was about to tease the tall shit about it, the artist quickly redeemed himself by saying...

“On the other hand, it was kind of _amusing_ to see people ogling at my pretty husband. I’ve seen how they looked at him, Chanyeol. They all had that hopeful look, thinking that they could still bone Baekhyun when in fact, the beautiful being was actually married to the sluttiest bastard who happened to score a handful of homeruns in his lifetime.” Yifan beamed proudly while Chanyeol rolled his eyes at the egotism. “And don’t you dare deny that Park, because  _you too,_ were one of them. You were undeniably entranced by my husband’s beauty.”

The curator’s cheeks instantly warmed at his friend’s statement.

“Such a fucking douche you are, Yifan! Why am I even friends with you?” The blonde artist snorted at the pathetic excuse.

“Well, I’m the bestest friend one could ever have, Chanyeollie, and you’ve never been happier ever since we’ve met...”

“Shut up. I’m not here to listen to your arrogance, Wu. But wait— w-where is your husband?”

Yifan took a sip of his black coffee, ears perking up at the stammer in the curator’s query. It annoyed him a little to hear the interest in Park Chanyeol’s voice but instead of making a big deal out of it, he directed his attention towards the headline portion of the newspaper and scanned through it.

“He’s working.”

“At Grandma’s?”

The curator couldn’t really fight his curiosity.

“Nope. At SNU hospital. He’s a nurse, remember? Taking care of halmeoni is  _only_  one of his part time jobs.” The blonde flipped the paper to the next.

“How many jobs does he have then? How come you’re allowing him to work so much, Yifan? Is your bank account losing zeros now or you’re just being a shitty husband?”

“We made a deal not to intervene with anything work-related and stuff. He wants to slave away so I’m just being a good husband and let him do whatever he wants.” The artist didn’t even looked at him, preferring to busy his eyes with reading the tabloid.

“What a lousy husband you are… If I were in your place, I wouldn’t make him do anything. He’d be chilling his glorious ass out instead of doing the laundry or washing the dishes or—“

“Did you just say…  _glorious ass?”_ Yifan interrupted, eyes a little wide at the description.  _“_ You’re not forgetting  _who_  you’re talking to right now, are you? Tame your goddamn hormones, you pervert.”

Chanyeol smirked. The annoyance in his best friends tone  kind of amused him.  _Revenge time, asshole._

“Well, who wouldn’t notice those _perky_ round ass, Yifan? You said it yourself and I absolutely agree with you there. Byun Baekhyun is indeed a  _very_  beautiful man— most especially from the belt  _below._ ”

The blonde artist growled over the insulting compliment. He could clearly see the attraction in his best friend’s eyes. He wanted to smack that chiseled jaw of his just to vent out his rage but Yifan knew better. The man wouldn’t dare to make a move on his admiration for his husband no matter how strong his feelings were. Park Chanyeol’s his best friend and he would never test the strength of their friendship, that he was sure of. And besides, the curator’s reputation was more important to him than anything in this world, love be damned.

Also, Park Chanyeol was a well-known womanizer, an eligible bachelor who’s as _straight_ as a ruler. And the artist believed that he’d always stay that way.

“Do you seriously think I’m making him do household chores here, Park?” It was now Yifan’s turn to do the mocking. Turning his full attention towards his still smirking friend, he said, “Those  _beautiful_  hands aren’t made for such domestic work but for giving pleasures…”

The annoying smirk on his friend’s lips quickly vanished and was then on replaced with a scowl.

“Fuck you. I don’t want to hear any of your sexual fantasies…”

 

After the stressful confrontation with his best friend, Chanyeol finally decided to attend to his shattering heart by going to a pub to get shit faced drunk.

“Two shots of tequila, please…” He waved at the bartender who sent him a flirtatious smirk.

He downed his two shots in less than 5 minutes and continued ordering them until he’s already on his 10th shot—officially making him drunk as fuck. And just as he was about to ask for his next round of shots, he spotted a pink mop of hair at  the corner of his eye.

Attached to that flamboyant hair was a pretty face who was nursing a beer on his hand. Said boy was wearing a plain white shirt with delicious collarbones which were calling out to him. The boy was not being subtle with his flirting, sending him teasing smiles along with those intense stares. It immediately fueled the curator’s ego, finding himself extremely amused over the pretty boy’s gestures. The pink-haired was staring at him with a purpose, a promise of keeping the curator entertained, challenging him to make a move.

Chanyeol broke the stare and decided to focus his attention onto the crystal shot glass in front of him. Inch by inch, his lips slowly formed a devious smirk. The pretty boy seemed to know that he had already succeeded on getting his attention but the boy was still insistent with his coquettish act.

 _‘Fuck this,’_ the curator muttered, his defenses were finally  crumbling down, allowing his instincts to win over him. He slowly ambled towards the location of the boy and as soon as he arrived at his target’s location, the curator’s playful persona instantly turned on as he said…

_"Why hello there, beautiful.”_

 

 


End file.
